


Scully, Strap Up

by wtfmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: 'i want to believe' except it's 'i want to be pegged', A lot of pegging, F/M, Oral Sex, Pegging, Season 11 Pre-Finale, So like comfortable in their skin MSR, he deserves to be pegged! he earned it, where we see Mulder being all husband-material and slitting throats for his wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfmulder/pseuds/wtfmulder
Summary: S11, Scully's moved back into the unremarkable house. She pegs the absolute fuck out of Mulder.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 13
Kudos: 102





	Scully, Strap Up

Mulder brings it up to Scully one afternoon, after reading an article about it on his phone. They’re on the couch in some kind of cuddling situation, parts of them touching but most of them not, occasionally reaching out to lay a hand on a socked foot or a knee cap.

“Pegging,” he says. “I never knew the word for it.”

Scully hums. She’s playing Candy Crush and down to her last life. If she screws it up she’ll have to wait thirty minutes to play again.

“They have a list of female celebrities who probably peg,” he continues.

“Is Sigourney Weaver on there?” She scores a combo and hurriedly starts the next level.

“Let me see.” He squints through his glasses and scrolls up and down in his phone. “She isn’t.” He frowns. “And neither is Lucy Lawless.”

“Not a great list then.”

“Nah,” he agrees.

***

Because mentioning Sigourney Weaver is always a precursor to them choosing _Alien_ for movie night, they watch _Alien_ on movie night. They share popcorn made on the stovetop with a little olive oil and fresh ground pepper, and Mulder brings it up again.

“If anyone pegs, it’d be her.”

Scully nods.

***

One morning he sends Scully a meme of a protester at a random march carrying a sign that says _Men Get Pegged!_

They’re in the office, so she spins her desk chair around to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Are you using a government issued desktop computer to find these things and send them to me?” She asks.

“ _No_ ,” he says, deeply offended. He hadn’t searched for it, it came up organically when he searched for the word ‘peg’. Which he could have done for _any reason_. She can’t peg that on him.

***

He brings it up while they’re getting coffee one morning, standing in line.

“It’s everywhere now.” He doesn’t mention how most websites curate your feed based on your search history and what content you spend the most time viewing. “It’s like the biggest sex trend since the step brother thing.”

“Mulder,” she hisses, exasperated. “Do you want me to peg you?”

There are people watching. A man stands behind both of them who looks especially interested, eyeing Scully with hunger. Mulder rolls his eyes and pulls Scully ahead with him in line.

“I’ve been talking about it for weeks and you’ve only now just picked up?”

“Why didn’t you just ask me like a normal person?”

It’s there turn to order. Cappuccinos for the both of them. Scully gets a little foam on her nose and he thumbs it away for her.

“And _yes,_ Mulder _,_ for God’s sake, I’ll peg you.”

He perks up. “For God’s sake? Not mine?”

She kicks him in the shin.

***

It doesn’t happen overnight. Mulder is sure she’s forgotten it until she interrupts his reading to show him her laptop screen.

Dildos. Lots of dildos.

He readjusts his glasses and squints at the screen. “Glass sounds painful. Too stiff. How would jelly even work?”

“Silicone is your best bet. It’s non-porous...” she trails off, knocking his knee with hers. “Feels more like skin.”

“Well, you would be the expert,” he lowers his voice, laughing when she knees him harder.

They go through the options together, and they eventually choose a beginner’s assortment of toys. None of them are intimidating, nothing bigger than about five inches, definitely on the thinner side, flexible with a silicone finish. They don’t resemble the real thing; he finds those a little creepy, any toy that looks too much like the real thing. Talk about uncanny valley. These ones are purple and blue, and if they at all resemble another person’s genitalia, he would pay good money to see it. For science, of course.

Scully picks out her own harness, nothing too intricate. It’s simple and adjustable with sizable buckles, and it should come up high enough on her hips to stay secure. Imagining her stepping into it, fastening those buckles and securing her perfectly average blue dick into place has him all hot and bothered before she even puts in the payment information. She only barely manages to click _confirm your order_ before he’s all up on her, taking her laptop and gently tossing it to the other side of the couch. 

***

They don’t get it to it immediately; both of them decide it deserves a little ceremony, so they wait for a nice, easy Saturday, were they can spend the day riling each other up. They make reservations at their favorite Italian place at 8pm, but Scully’s strapping up at 6, because they know by now that eating before sex _always_ leads to no sex. 

Mulder cleans up _meticulously_ , after having done a copious amount of research on how to do so, and even fasts for most of the day, which actually worries Scully a little. 

“You sure you’re in the right mind to do this today?” She asks him, jiggling her harness in the air. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for months,” he assures her, hypnotized by the harness. He follows it with his eyes as she swings it back and forth. His search history is a _mess_. And none of the porn was ever as specific as he liked, and every attempt to find what he wanted only made him want it _more_. 

There are a couple of reasons this has become such a fixation for him, and most of them have to do with Scully. His number one reason is that his prostate is a pretty good sport, generally. Even now in his old age. He’s kept up with all of his evals and truth be told, it’s an upstanding prostate. And this isn’t exactly his first foray into shoving something into his ass. Hell, it isn’t even Scully’s. 

More than that, he loves the idea of doing this with _Scully_. The image it puts in his head is both amusing and sexy. She’s a lot smaller than him, so working out a position is going to be tough, but she certainly has a _presence_ that makes her the right woman for the job. With her commanding voice and unlikely strength, she has no problem bossing him around in bed. 

Of course there’s the newness of it. The fact that they’re still having this kind of fun twenty years into it makes him appreciate the life he’s led, even with the minor setbacks and inconceivable tragedies. They’re working on things, there’s still a lot to unpack, but that ease of companionship, that _'I know you_ , I _know_ you’ feeling, will never go away. 

She closes the bathroom door to get everything ready and he waits on the bed, knife hard and totally naked. If they do this again, he’d like to see her put it on. That’s the kind of shit you don’t see in porn, and that’s exactly what he loves so much about being with Scully. Everything is real. There is no fast forwarding through the plot, no clicking through every video to find something decent; it is only her, her, her. It’s them. He’s about to get fucked in the ass. 

When the door opens, Scully comes out with her hands on her hips, looking down at her crotch with a curious gaze. “So this is what it’s like.” 

“What what’s like?” He asked, voice a little hoarse. “Murdering your partner in cold blood?” But he’s hot all over, watching Scully standing there. 

The harness fits her perfectly. Her little purple cock rests on her pubic mound, secured with vinyl straps. It juts out with a pleasing upward curve.

“Having a penis.” She wiggles her hips a little, testing to make sure the dildo doesn’t slide out of place. “To think this is the symbolic determinate of power and status throughout most of history.” 

He barks out a laugh and falls to his back on the bed. “Get over here, Scully.” He pats the sheets beside him. “Fight the power.” 

Barefoot, naked except for her strap-on, she joins him at the bed but doesn’t make a move to climb in. Instead, her hand comes down to wrap around the base of her cock and she watches him with narrowed eyes. Pondering something. 

“ _Scully_ ,” he says with shock and delight. “Are you asking me to suck your dick?” 

“I guess that’d be kind of silly.” She gives herself one quick tug and twist, then drops her hand to her side. “Neither of us would feel anything.” 

“No, come here.” He moves to crawl out of the bed and down on to his knees. He takes her hips in his hands and angles her to face him. The dildo stares him right in the face. Looking up at her from under his brow, he says, as seductive as he can make himself sound, “Let me give you a blow job.” 

She rolls her eyes as his lips envelop the silicone tip, groaning “Shut up, Mulder,” even as her hands slide into his hair. “This is ridiculous,” she says after a minute, voice low and breathy. 

It does feel a little ridiculous, his mouth moving over nothing but smooth silicone. It has no taste and he takes it down easily, bobbing his head back and forth to give her a show. He’d started it to make her laugh, but judging by the look on her face, Scully _likes_ getting her dick sucked. And it’s kind of nice, the weight of toy on his tongue. Oddly soothing.

She tugs him away by his hair, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re too good at this.” 

“That’s the first time having no gag reflex has come in handy for me. Imagine all of the messes I could have gotten us out of.” Her hips are still in his hands. He squeezes them, then pushes her thighs apart to get to that vinyl strap in the middle. He curls his tongue underneath, groaning when he tastes her wet and hot and sweet. The angle is too awkward to get to her clit, so he manhandles her around until she’s perched on the side of the bed and he’s between her knees. 

He nudges the black strip aside to suck her clitoris into his mouth, but it’s less than thirty seconds before she’s sitting up and pushing his head away. “No, Mulder,” she gasps, clearly worked up. “Not until after...” 

He hauls himself off of his knees, wincing at the ache in his joints and his neck, and slips in next to her. “You ready for this thing?” he asks, finding his own side of the bed. 

“Ready if you are.” 

There’s a towel on the bed and a bottle of lubricant on the nightstand. He grabs it and tosses it over to her, but she shakes her head and sets it down.

“Let’s get you a little relaxed first. You might be too tight.” He laughs. He laughs even harder when she says, “you have an involuntary sphincter muscle--” 

“ _Scully_ ,” he’s giggling, and she doubles down, finding absolute pleasure in weirding him out. 

“We want to avoid any fissures or tears -- “

“Oh, for the love of -- will you _please_ just fuck me in the ass?” 

She pouts at him. “Not if you interrupt me.” But it’s all for show -- the set of her high cheekbones, the glint in her cool blue stare. Now she’s not playing; it’s time to listen up. 

“Alright,” he concedes, more of a rumble in his chest than an actual word spoken. “How do you want me?” 

“On your stomach.” 

He complies, feeling oddly vulnerable. It’s a nice feeling, like he’s being taken care of in a way, and it’s a safe feeling, but still strange. Scully climbs on top of him and straddles his hips. 

She treats him to a sweet little massage, something they do more often now the years are making themselves known in their tired bodies. It does loosen him up. He tries not to think about what that means for his sphincter. Her hands are heaven on his skin; he’s always been a little spell-bound to them, instantly pacified by her gentle touch. He melts, burrowing his face into the pillow, and groans when she stops. 

“You feel good?” She murmurs. He nods without picking his head up. “Okay. Turn back over for a second.” 

They kiss when he’s flat on his back, a slow exchanging of tongues which soon gets heated. He chases after her when she pulls away, but she’s shoving him back and slipping down the length of his body before he knows what’s happening. Her tongue slides over both of his nipples, her teeth barely grazing, and she continues a path over his abs, alternating between kissing, licking, and biting. He’s panting by the time she reaches his cock, her hands stroking over his thighs as her tongue pokes out to lap at the head. 

He’s so hard it feels like he’s about to burst out of his skin. There’s the hot slick suck of her mouth and then there’s nothing, and he lets out a rush of air when she releases him. He’s about to beg until he realizes she’s reaching for the lube and squeezing out a generous amount over her fingers. 

This they’ve done before, and have done more as of late in order to prepare for this very moment. She’s been clipping her nails all the way down, which he knows is a very big sacrifice -- and he’s shown his appreciation in more ways than one. He eases a pillow under his hips as she crawls between his legs, presses up on his thighs, and begins to open him up. 

Her lips kiss up and down the length of his dick as she slides the first finger in. A little cold, a little uncomfortable, but he gets used to it quickly. Same with the second finger. She curls them and finds his prostate with a practiced ease, and his hips jump off the bed. He'll never get used to that feeling -- how much it feels like an orgasm only a minute in. She lets out a throaty little laugh. A third finger and he feels stretched, and is compelled to clench down around her with a gasped, “ _Fuck_.”

“Relax,” Scully soothes, bringing her mouth down to gently mouth at the skin on his balls. The sharp sting of arousal strikes him unexpectedly and he forgets all about the fingers in his ass. She sucks on him, her knowledge and skill at navigating his body almost as arousing as the physical act itself, and slowly he releases, his breath evening out, his hands flattening on the sheets.

She fingers him slowly and sweetly for awhile, only occasionally brushing his prostate in order to avoid any early accidents. The push and pull, and even the stretch now that he’s used to it, feels great. She moves herself up to kiss him as she fucks him. He loves thinking that. _Scully_ fucks _me._ Truly equal in all things, he and his cute little spy. 

“Okay,” he moans into her mouth. He can’t make himself break away from her, nipping at her bottom lip as he tries to get out, “Think’m ready.” 

“Alright, I’ve got you.” She caresses his face as she takes a little more time to gently massage his prostate. Mulder has to close his eyes to the pleasure. It’s like he’s become one single-celled organism, small and exposed, and all he can do is feel good all over. He chokes when she slips her fingers out of him, half desperate and half so very grateful. Three more seconds and it would all be over. 

There’s some rearranging. He can’t actually move his thighs all that far back, so face to face is impossible. They eventually get him on his hands and knees, which leads to some hilarious hijinks as Mulder learns how to arch his back. They try it in regular table top pose, but Scully can’t reach his ass very well, and although he can’t see it he knows it looks like some fucked up version of leapfrog, which makes him laugh. And then she wants to know what he’s laughing at, which makes her laugh too, so that sets them back a couple of minutes. But miraculously he’s even harder when they settle down. 

“Here, Mulder, just settle down onto your elbows. Don’t hold yourself up with your hands. Then ease your hips down a little.” 

He complies, face pressed into his arm. “Christ,” he says. “I feel a little shy.” The position is very revealing. He wonders what she sees back there, doesn’t imagine it’s very pretty.

“I got you,” she says. He listens to her uncap the lube again, but then there’s a pause. “Mulder, I don’t get to see your ass enough.” 

“ _What_?” He jolts forward as she smacks him with a sharp, open palm. “ _Scully_!” But he feels a lot better. 

“What? It’s a fantastic ass. Truly an...” she spreads his cheeks and his face goes burning burning hot. “Exemplary..” Her fingers dig in with the intent to leave bruises. “Specimen.” 

“I appreciate that. Make sure to write a review for me.” He pushes back against her, the throbbing between his legs now a screamingly urgent issue. “Please.” 

She takes pity on him, and he listens for the lewd squelch of lube pouring into the palm of her hand. Grunts when he feels the cold slip of it dripping down his ass when she rubs a bit of it into his sensitive flesh. He’s not a fan of that part. Then she coats the toy with plenty more, crawls between his spread legs, and takes his ass in her hands. 

The silicone tip presses against the rim of asshole and he moans, pushing back a little. She likes him a little slutty. “Easy there,” she says in a high-pitched whisper, clearly equally turned on by this. “Let me just...” and she eases the head in, a little less than an inch, and lets him get used to the intrusion.

It doesn’t hurt at all. He still feels really relaxed from the foreplay, and the toy isn’t that much bigger than her fingers had been. So he brattily demands for her to keep going, and she responds with a few more inches and another slap to his ass. A little more encouragement from him and then she’s all the way in, clinging onto his hips until he gives her a nod to begin fucking him. 

It takes a few minutes and mishaps for her to find a natural thrusting rhythm. “How do you do this?” She hisses, straining. She finds a groove after several shallow thrusts that drive him crazy out of his fucking mind. There, but not _there_ , and her frustration only turns him on more, the little curses she lets out as she tries to relax her hips filthy and creative. The toy moves in and out of him in small inches, and his asshole grips onto it like he never wants it to leave, and that also gives her pause -- she doesn’t just want to rip it out of him. 

“Scully, _please_ ,” he growls. 

“Okay, okay.” She picks up the pace, and _yes_ , fuck _yes,_ she fucks him like a _champion._ She fucks him like she kind of hates him a little, her hands clutching his hips as she drives in, and he buries his face in his arms and shouts when she finally rubs against his prostate, the upward curve of the toy absolutely one hundred percent without a doubt doing its _fucking job._

Oh, christ, it’s relentless. He has to -- he props himself up with the one elbow as best as he can and gets one hand between his legs, holding onto his cock for dear life as she pounds into him. He tries to keep in time with her as he strokes himself, but it’s absolutely impossible because he’s brain dead and drooling all over the place. He loses his grip on himself more than once, too slick with pre-cum and some of the lube to let his hand fly the way he needs it to.

“’S good?” She asks, out of breath. He cries out, offended she even has to ask. He’s vulnerable and weak as hell right now, what the fuck. She takes that as yes, however, and keeps going, and keeps going, and keeps going. There’s a moment where she has to slow down, catch her breath, and give her thighs a break, and it’s not like he holds it against her or anything, but Scully please Scully c’mon what are you oh god yes thank you oh god _fuck_.

And then it happens. When you reach a certain age it’s sometimes difficult to remind yourself that there are still so many more things for you to explore, to experience, to learn and to live for. This is certainly one of those experiences. This is not just a simple plateau, a release of endorphins and ejaculate, not simply tensing and contracting and that sweet sweet temporary death. It sets his whole body aflame. He feels it in his goddamn scalp. He feels it in cells he hasn’t even produced yet. It _bursts_ , and he comes hard enough his stomach hurts. Scully keeps a steady pressure through it all, waiting until he’s milked dry and twitchingly spent, only pulling out when he starts pulling away from her. 

He collapses face first into the mattress, smothering himself a little on accident. Scully unbuckles her harness and slides it down her legs, kicking it off over the side of the bed. They’re both panting, absolutely bewildered at what has taken place today, and he squeezes his eyes shut when she collapses beside him. “M’sorry -” he’d do almost anything to go down on her right now, but he can barely move. “Sit’omface?” 

“It’s okay. No, no,” she coughed. “I can’t--can’t get up. Holy crap. That’s a lot of work.” 

They settle in for a few minutes, the room silent save for their harsh breathing. Then Mulder groans, uses the single burst of energy he can muster, and rolls over to yank open the drawer in the nightstand. He fumbles around until he finds her little pink vibrator. He cringes at how sweaty he is and at the cum smeared on his chest and abdomen, but ignores it to roll back over and wrap himself around Scully. “Oh, thank you,” she laughs softly, parting her legs to invite his wandering hand. He licks sweat from the back of her neck and turns her face to capture her in a sleepy kiss. One hand turns on the vibrator and presses it between her thighs, the other hand scoops beneath her to hold her close and feel up her chest. 

It doesn’t take long with how worked up she is. He doesn’t want to tease her, not his best friend, not when she took such good care of him. He holds the toy against her clit, not too hard but enough to make her thighs tremble. He murmurs unintelligible nonsense in her ear until she’s coming and gasping his name, shaking like a leaf in the tight safe cage of his arms. 

He switches the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere on the bed, then wraps her up like a present. They snooze for a bit. When he opens his eyes he almost expects to see a hole in the wall where the train burst in to run them over. 

“Time?” Scully mumbles. 

He lifts his head up and turns to look, wishing he had no bones. “Uh, seven fifteen.” 

“God, our reservations are at eight.” 

His brain oozes through his ears at the idea of leaving the house at all tonight. He’s already pretty sore. “That’s not happening. That’s over with. We gotta call and cancel.”

“Takeout?” She sleepily asks. “You gotta eat. Don’t want you to pass out and... die.” 

“I already did. You already killed me.” He smacks a kiss on the top of her head and pulls away to find his phone to cancel the reservation. He limps a little as he walks, very unused to that feeling. Scully’s ego will be a force to be reckoned with for the next few weeks. He knows he always feels a little proud when he sees her stumble.

“Mul’r, I’ll do it, get back to bed,” she whines, climbing out after him. “Get some rest.” _Her_ legs wobble too.

“I a _m_ a little sore,” he goads, looking forward to being coddled. She pouts for him and touches his hair before dialing the restaurant. He watches her with so much love, and thinks to himself, _everyone in the world should be pegged_.


End file.
